


Salvation

by Loser_Angel_666



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Love Confessions, M/M, Requited Love, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27667549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loser_Angel_666/pseuds/Loser_Angel_666
Summary: "He walked out into the hallway and Sam came toward him, immediately, he hugged him. Dean kind of hated this. He hated everything about it. But he hugged back anyway. It occurred to him then that Sam and Jack were grieving too. They hadn’t seen him die. Heard his goodbye. But they were family. They were grieving too. Sam pulled Jack into the hug too and Dean wrapped his arm around the kid."
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	1. loss

**Author's Note:**

> Cas is gone. and summaries are hard. It's four AM and last time I checked it was only 10:30
> 
> 15x18 coda because 15x20 doesn't exist. Don't worry, I wrote the actual fic part while i was still alive and coherent

There was no sound aside from his ragged breathing. Cas’ words repeating in Deans head. Cas had loved him. He had loved him and he was gone. He was gone and Dean didn’t even get the chance to tell him he-

Dean rakes his hands through his hair, staring at the spot on the floor where Cas had been standing not five minutes ago. He had been right there. He was right there. He was telling Dean that he was loved. That he was a good person. 

(“The only thing I want…” )

Dean lets out a choked sob, vision blurring, blinking so he can’t see that spot on the floor. Maybe if he stares long enough Cas will come back.

(“Something I know I can’t have.”)

Dean leans his head back against the cold wall, eyes glassy, breath stuck in his chest. He’s gasping. He’s choking. He should have said something. He should have done something. He should have stopped him. He should have reached out. Held him back. Told him.

(“I cared about the whole world, because of you.”)

Dean’s phone rings again. It’s Sam. Three missed calls. He’s probably worried. He should answer. He needs to answer. Cas was the only thing that had tethered Dean to this world. He was his salvation. He was gone. Dean was shaking again. Shaking so badly and his eyes were hot behind his shaking hands. His chest ached and he could hardly breath. He had felt grief before. Far too many times. He had lost Castiel before. Far too many times. This feels so much worse. This feels so, so much worse.

On the last ring, Dean clumsily hits the accept button and Sam’s worried voice filters through the speaker.

“Dean? Are you guys okay? Is death dead.”

Dean opens his mouth to respond but his breath is still shaky and his words come out unformed and whispered. He cries, soundless, with his phone in one hand and the other tearing at his hair.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” He manages, and it sounds cracked and beaten and broken even to his own ears.

And Cas’ last words are still ringing in his ears. Repeating in his head. He said goodbye. He said I love you and he said goodbye and now he was gone.

(“You changed me, Dean.”)

“Death is dead.”

“Good. We uh, we don’t have great news.” Sam starts, and Dean can’t handle any more bad news. He can hardly handle Cas. He can’t even handle Cas. He makes a strangled noise and sucks in a loud breath, letting it out shaky, tears streaming freely down his face.

“You okay?” Sam asks.

He’s staring at the ceiling, searching around, upward, for something to fix his gaze on. His eyes still burn and the lump in his throat can’t be swallowed. He would pray to god, but god is at the top of Dean’s ‘most hated’ list. He wants to pray to Cas, but he doesn’t know what he would say.

“Sam.” He whispers. Sam is silent on the other end, waiting for Dean to continue. “Cas,” And he can’t say anything else. He can’t finish. He supposes Sam catches on, because he doesn’t wait for Dean to keep going.

“Is he okay?”

“No, he’s- Sammy,” He sniffs and wipes his tears away violently. “He’s gone.”

(“I love you.”)

“He’s- no. He’s?” Sam says after a minute. 

“Gone.” Dean whispers.

“We’re almost there.” Sam says, “Are you okay?” Dean doesn’t know how to fucking answer that. 

He looks over to the side, like he’s trying to twist his face away from any more of this goddamn pain, but he catches sight of the blood on his jacket. A handprint. Cas’ handprint. He reaches out with a shaking hand and lightly touches the bloody print. Cas had saved him. Over and over and over. Always sacrificing himself for Dean. Always falling from heaven. Always disobeying orders. Destroying everything he had always known. For Dean. And Dean had died for Cas too. Dean had nearly sacrificed himself. He would have gone to hell and back if it meant having Cas back. And he had never gotten to tell him.

“Alright, Dean, we’re only five minutes away, you wanna talk to Jack?”

“No,” Dean says. Because he can’t tell his son that his father is gone. Dead. That Cas was taken. 

Jack must have known about the deal. He had to, it was for him. Dean thinks distantly that maybe he should hate the kid. Maybe he should be angry. But all he could feel wsas fucking despair. He hangs up the phone, even though it seemed Sam was mid sentence. And he sat on the floor.

By the time the bunker door slammed shut and Sam and Jack's shoes were quickly running down the hallway, calling for Dean, Dean had dragged himself to his feet. 

He walked out into the hallway and Sam came toward him, immediately, he hugged him. Dean kind of hated this. He hated everything about it. But he hugged back anyway. It occurred to him then that Sam and Jack were grieving too. They hadn’t seen him die. Heard his goodbye. But they were family. They were grieving too. Sam pulled Jack into the hug too and Dean wrapped his arm around the kid.

Dean is sobbing again, and he backs himself out of the hug, wiping his face. Jack is crying too, and Sam has tears on his face. God, they’re a mess. Dean looks at Jack, but he looks at the ground.

“It was my fault wasn’t it?” Jack asks, sounding small.

“What?” Sam asks, incredulous.

“He made the deal for me. The empty took him didn’t it?”

“It did.”

“I’m sorry.” Jack whispers, sounding horrified, looking grief stricken and pained. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s not your fault Jack.” Sam says. And Dean has forced himself into a blank, pensive look.

“It is. He made the deal for me, he- he wasn’t happy for me. He promised he wouldn’t leave. What made him leave?”

Dean couldn’t answer. He couldn’t say it out loud. He looks at Sam and Jack, the calmest he’s been in weeks, but his head feels like it’s been set on fire.

“It’s not your fault Jack. He sacrificed himself for me.” Dean says. “It was to save me.”

“It’s not a contest.” Sam mutters. And Jack shakes his head, apologizing again and heading to his room. Sam looks like he wants to go after him, but he doesn’t, he turns to Dean instead.

“He said- He said he loved me, Sam.” Dean finally forced out. His voice cracking and his eyes glistening and his chest felt like someone had wedged a dagger into it, but he had said it.

Sam doesn’t look surprised, but he can see the sympathy and the pain and the heartbreak etched on his brother's face for him.

“He said he loved me, and then he died.” Dean repeats. Then louder, just for good measure; “He’s gone.”

“Did you say anything back?”

“I didn’t get a chance- I - he was gone so quick, I couldn’t-”

“It’s okay, Dean.”

“No, Sammy, he said he couldn’t have it. He said,” Dean takes another breath. “He said the thing he wanted, he couldn’t have.”

“Dean,”

“He didn’t know Sammy. He died thinking- thinking that I didn’t love him back.”

“We’ll get him back.”

‘I have to tell him.”

“You will.”

Dean leans back against the hallway wall, he can hear jack slamming his door a little ways away, the poor kid. He’ll talk to him. It’s a promise to Cas. He’ll forgive Jack. He’ll tell him he’s his son. They’re family. He’ll talk to the kid. He’ll save Cas. He will tell him.

Sam is looking at him like he’s a soda can that someone just shook violently. 

Dean raises his hand up to the hand print on his shoulder again. He fits his palm over it so their fingers match up and he sucks in his breath, letting it out with his eyes closed. It’s pathetic really. Who would’ve thought this would be what breaks Dean Winchester. (Everyone would’ve thought, that’s who.)

“I love him, Sammy.”


	2. coming home

The spell had worked. It had worked and everything was okay again. The world was saved, god was out of the picture, and Cas was okay.

Dean had drawn a blood sigil and Jack had given just a little bit of his god juice and Sam somehow didn’t fuck up the pronunciations written in Rowena's journal. Somehow they had done it. 

Then before Dean had a chance to worry about something going wrong, Cas was tumbling out of the portal, nearly collapsing and Dean is right there, holding him up, hands clinging to the lapels of Cas’ trench coat. Dean lets Sam and Jack help, and they each greet him, before Cas, now fully conscious and seemingly unharmed, turns to Dean. 

Then Dean throws his arms around Cas again, arms circling under his trench coat and pulling Cas even closer. Cas’ hands smooth over Dean’s back, holding him back just as tight, like Cas had missed Dean as much as Dean had missed Cas. Totally platonic. (Bullshit).

***

Dean was sitting at the table in the bunker with his bloody palm in his lap, waiting for Cas to find what he’s looking for in the first aid kit. He’s sitting down across from Dean, who had told him it was fine. How many times have they sliced their hands for spells. How many times have they been injured? But Dean had raised Cas from the empty, just as Cas had raised him from hell. They were back at the beginning.

A new beginning this time. Cas doesn’t even need to ask, because Dean is already passing his injured hand over, laying it palm up on the table for Cas to fix.

“If I were still an angel, I could have healed this easily.” 

“I don’t need you to be an angel, Cas. I’ve healed the human way before.”

“I know. You’re strong Dean.” Cas says. “I’m not.”

“I’m not that strong.“ Dean mumbles. Cas cleans Dean’s wound carefully.

“Stronger than anyone I know.” 

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean says. Cas stops for a minute, hardly even noticed by Dean. He had thought perhaps… but no. Dean was still calling him’ buddy’.

“You’re welcome, Dean.” He begins to wrap it in gauze.

“You know, when you were- when you were gone… Lucifer came back. He- uh, he didn't last long. But he called me. On the phone, you know? With your name. With your voice.”

“Dean… ”

“I thought he was you. I thought you were back.”

Cas looks up at him with his sad blue eyes. He looks different somehow. When he got out of the empty… he seems different. A good different. 

“I’m here now.” Cas reassures Dean, securing the gauze and packing up the first aid kit.

“You are,” Dean says softly. He smiles, and stares at Cas. He’s back. He’s truly, honestly back. For real. For good. And he’s okay. And he’s human. And he loves him. Cas loves him. And Cas doesn’t know Dean loves him back. 

Why can’t he say it? He can say it. He will. 

“I’m glad you’re back.” That’s not ‘i love you’, what the fuck Dean. 

“I am too,” 

And that was the end of it. They spent the night drinking and celebrating and Dean cooked a big family dinner. Jody and Donna and the girls came by, Cas’ smile grew when Claire didn’t even hesitate before hugging him. It was one of the best nights of Dean’s life. They were a family again. 

***

That night, Dean fell asleep easy, knowing Cas was in the next room over. Cas who loved him. Dean almost didn’t want to let him out of his sight, in case this isn’t real. In case Cas will be gone again.

Dean wakes up sometimes after midnight with the taste of blood in his mouth and regret stinging his eyes. He looks around the room, dark and unnerving. Funny how much a room can change after a nightmare. It’s comforting with the warm glow of a bedside lamp until you’re reminded of how an angel used to sit in that chair with you. 

Dean swallows hard. ‘Cas is okay’ he tells himself in his head. 

“He’s alive. He’s okay.” He whispers to himself, falling back onto his pillow and turning into sleep. 

Behind his eyes, Cas is yelling. He’s surrounded by nothingness. It’s not dark. It’s not light. It’s just… devoid. Empty. Horrifying. Cas is yelling, and Dean can’t hear him, but even if he could he wouldn’t understand the enochian words. 

Dean gets up this time. And he knows that Cas is alive and okay, but he just needs to double check. He just needs to see for sure. 

When he gets to Cas’ door, he listens, to see if maybe Cas is still up, watching a movie or listening to the mixtape like he did when he didn’t need sleep. But he’s human. Dean cracks the door, light from the hallway washing over Cas’ sleeping face. The light and the creaking of the door cause Cas to stir and Dean holds his breath, slowly trying to shut the door.

“Dean?” Cas says. He hasn’t even opened his eyes fully. Dean doesn’t move.

“Yeah, sorry. I uh, I just was checking in.”

“Checking in?”

“Yeah, you know, making sure you’re… still here.” 

Cas is sitting up now, squinting into the dark room at Dean. He’s quiet for a minute, and Dean is about to turn away and go back to his own room, but then Cas reaches over to his bedside table and turns on the lamp. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, it’s fine now.”

“I’m sorry.” Cas says. Dean furrows his brow.

“Why?”

“For giving you nightmares.”

“Cas, I’ve been having nightmares since I was four years old, what's one more?”

“You don’t deserve it.”

“You’re biased.” Dean says and Cas looks away guiltily, Dean keeps going. “I mean, I’ve done plenty to deserve much more than a few nightmares.”

“You get enough punishment without your self deprecation.”

“I’ve done more than enough to you, Cas.”

“I’ve forgiven you.”

“You shouldn’t,” 

“I do anyway.” 

“Why?” Dean whispers. Cas moves over on his bed and pats the space next to him with a sigh, reminding Dean once again that he’s completely human. He’s human because of Dean. 

Dean shuts the door behind him and sits down on the bed next to Cas, his back against the headboard and their arms pressed together. Cas doesn’t seem to mind.

“Dean, I’ve told you how I feel. You know what I think of you. I’ve seen your soul, all of it, when we were in hell. The good, the bad, the horrible. And I know you. You are more than your regrets Dean.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean says. He said it in purgatory, but this apology isn’t just for everything. It’s for now. It’s for waking Cas up, it’s for not being able to accept the forgiveness, it’s for not saying it back. He feels like he should say more. 

“Apology accepted.”

“I’ll let you go back to bed,” Dean says, but he doesn’t make any move to leave. After a minute or so of them looking at each other, Cas speaks.

“Are you staying?” He sounds confused.

“I could.” Dean whispers hesitantly. He’s not looking at Cas anymore. “I wasn’t going to, but… I could.”

“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable.”

“You could never, Cas. You don’t.”

“Well you’re welcome to stay,” Cas yawns.

Dean looks for any shred of lie in Cas’ eyes. A sign that he’s just saying that, offering Dean a spot in his bed simply because he feels it’s required. But all he sees is genuinity. He sees kindness, and compassion, and love. Dean reaches over and turns off the lamp. Cas scoots down until he’s laying, and Dean does the same.

They lay quietly at first, Dean watching Cas, and Cas watching him back, and they aren’t touching, but Cas radiates warmth. Dean can’t do this to him. He can’t let him think it’s unrequited.

Can’t say it out loud.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back after you… before it took you.”

“I didn’t expect anything, Dean. I said it because it was true. Because it made me happy. I needed you to know, but I don’t need reciprocation.”

“But… you want it right?” Dean asks, Cas doesn’t say anything. He turns over onto his back and looks at the ceiling. Dean doesn’t take his eyes off of his outline in the dark.

“I don’t expect anything from you.”

“That wasn’t the question, man.” Dean chuckles quietly. 

“Well then yes.” Cas says quietly. Sadly. “I would want it.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“You have it.” Dean says. And Cas looks at him, eyebrows furrowed and frowning, confusedly.

“I have what?” He asks. Dean takes a deep breath, looks up at the ceiling for a quick moment and then he looks right at Cas, eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see his face clearly enough. Granted, they’re only a few short inches away from each other.

“Me. Cas. You have me.”

“Dean…”

“I love you too.” 

“You do?” Cas asks, and Dean nods, feeling like a weight’s been lifted off of him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier, I’m sorry I didn’t… I thought angels could feel these things.” 

“I’m not an angel anymore. And I promised you I wouldn’t invade your privacy.” Cas says. Dean nods.

“You’ll always be an angel to me.” Dean mutters, Cas rolls his eyes and scoots closer to Dean.

Dean tugs Cas in closer and presses his lips to his cheek, and they both relax into each other's arms. Finally, Dean knows what happiness feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> definitely not my favorite thing i've ever written, but that's ok

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I wrote this (both chapters) before the finale, so ch. 2 will be up tomorrow morning-ish
> 
> none of them deserved this shit, I miss happy Dean. Happy Sam. idk if we ever got to see happy Cas, but that would have made my fucking life.
> 
> Anyway, I love comments and feedback if you'd like, hopefully no one wakes me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow because I really didn't notice the time
> 
> have a lovely day/night <3


End file.
